Winged Beasts
by TheAssassinGame
Summary: Taken from her village, Genovefa, a young Celtic girl, finds her calling in the arms of the Assassin Brotherhood in Rome. Meanwhile, Ginny follows her memories as she works in Abstego Industries, to find much more than she bargained for...
1. A Quiet Night

The sun hung low in the sky as the two children ran around the outskirts of the village. They weren't disturbing anyone and it brought a smile to the faces of those that saw them.

"Drustan!" The young girl cried as she chased her older brother around the Celtic settlement. "Slow down!"

"You'll never catch me!" He called back, laughing as he ran.

"Drustan!"

The two children continued to run, racing through the forest as darkness began to fall. Drustan thundered on, risking a look over his shoulder. As he realised his sister was no longer behind him, he slowed and stopped.

"Genovefa?" He called, stepping back the way he came.

All was silent but the soft cry of a bird in the distance. As if it too called for her.

"Genovefa! It's not funny anymore, come out!"

He began to grow afraid. The darkness had found them quickly and it was rumoured that all manner of creatures lived in it. And despite his claims otherwise, he believed it.

"Come on, we should get back now." His voice shook as he imagined large fanged creatures looming behind him.

He heard movement behind a tree and his stomach flipped. There was something there. Watching him.

"Genovefa?" His timid voice called out to her but again, no reply.

He took cautious steps towards the tree, every leaf that crunched beneath his feet filled him with fear as he grew ever nearer to the creature.

The shadow leapt and tackled Drustan to the ground as he screamed.

Lying on the floor, Genovefa burst out laughing as he brother lay beside her, suffering from a minor heart attack.

"That's not funny!" He shouted and hit her arm.

"Ow! You're no fun!" She said, hitting him back.

"We have to go back." Drustan told her, standing, shaking off the leaves and dirt from his clothes.

"You should have seen your face!" She laughed, getting to her feet.

In the distance, Drustan heard twigs snap.

"What was that?" He asked.

"I didn't hear anything. Probably the ghouls that haunt this forest!" Genovefa giggled.

"If this is another one of your tricks, I swear-"

More twigs snapped, joined by voices and torch lights.

"Something's there." She said, her laugh fading away.

"Genovefa, don't!" Her brother warned, but the young Celtic girl followed the sound and the light.

Keeping to the shadows, they crept towards the source, hiding in the shrubbery as they found it. With deafening heart beats and breathing that threatened to give them away, the two watched the army, dressed in armour than shone in the light of the torches, helmets obscuring their faces. A few tents were set up as a temporary base and soldiers sat around a fire, talking quietly and eating.

"How much further?" Asked one.

"Just up ahead." A soldier replied.

"Good. I just want to get this over and done with and go home. It's cold here. Not like home."

"Mhm." He mumbled in agreement as he chewed on a chunk of tough bread.

"I hope there aren't too many children." He continued, sighing. "I don't like killing children."

"They aren't like us, Flavius." The soldier swallowed and turned to him. "They're savages, uncivilised, even their children would cut our throats at a moments notice."

"Fine."

Genovefa squeaked and clapped a hand over her mouth as realisation dawned on her. This army, these strange people, they were going to attack her village.

"What was that?" Flavius looked up, squinting into the darkness where the two hid.

"Probably just an animal." The other soldier waved him off, but Flavius wasn't so sure.

"Genovefa, hush..." Drustan held her as she shook in fear.

Flavius stepped closer to the bushes and drew his sword.

Genovefa ran.

"No!" Her brother cried as she burst from the bushes, screaming as bolted for her home.

The two soldiers jumped into action and Flavius snatched the Celtic boy as the other soldier sprinted into the forest. His long, strong legs easily caught up with the young girl and grabbed her by the back of her dress as she shrieked and squirmed in his grip.

"Shut it!" He snapped, shaking her as he put the sword to her neck.

She did as she was told, eyes wide, heart thundering in her chest. He dragged her back to camp where she saw her brother in the same state, sword to his back as he knelt by the fire, his arms tied behind his back.

"What do we do with them?" Flavius asked as the soldier and Genovefa approached them.

"They can be our captives for the time being. There'll be enough bloodshed first light tomorrow."

Flavius nodded and struck Drustan with the hilt of his sword. His sister screamed as he flopped on his side, unmoving. As the other soldier did the same, the night returned to its quiet state. All the noise that remained was the crackling fire and the low whistling of the soldiers as they shoved the unconscious children to the side.


	2. Taking A Break

Her eyes snapped open.

"Right, let's get you out. You look like you could use a rest."

Ginny sat up, her heart thundering just like Genovefa's had in that memory. Holding her head, she stood and the animus built into her booth powered down.

"That was some really good stuff." Lydia Masters, one of Abstergo Entertainment's managers said, offering a hand as Ginny left her station to take a seat on the nearby sofas.

"Cheers. It was pretty nerve racking though. I thought they were going to die." She said, trying to hide her hands that still shook.

"If they did, that would make a very short and uninteresting film." Lydia smiled. "It's looking to be a very promising subject, no one's been able to go back this far and if I'm honest, I didn't think we'd be able to get these memories from subject seventeen, I thought it'd be too... Decomposed."

"Well, it's been working fine so far."

"Indeed. Take a break, I'll get you a coffee and then hop right back- Oh, hello? Hi, yeah..." Lydia was cut off by a call coming in through her headset but waved to Ginny, mouthing that'd she'd be right back as she left.

Slumping in her seat, Ginny let out a deflating sigh. She'd only just started working on the Subject 17 project last week and today was her first day of collecting memories. She'd been sceptical to start after the incident with one of the staff being attacked and Olivier, the boss, going missing during the making of a film based in the 18th century of pirates in the West Indies. But, it paid well, it looked fun, and hell, her history degree made her more than qualified to do it.

It was strange, she thought, that Subject 17's ancestors, Genovefa, looked so much like her. As far as she knew, she was never related to this Desmond Miles, but then again, she'd hardly gone into an in-depth search of her family tree.

Lydia returned with a steaming coffee in a paper cup and passed it to Ginny. She thanked her and the woman smiled and left again. Taking careful sips, Ginny looked around, watching the other staff either chatting around a snack station or basically unconscious, hooked up to the animus in their booth. Did they know they were working for Templars? Were they Templars themselves?

Almost absent mindedly, Ginny felt her necklace under her shirt, a metal pendant in the shape of the Assassin's symbol. A small grin played on her face before she looked down into her coffee. It's going to be fun, she thought, playing the spy.


	3. Bought And Paid For

Merry Christmas/ Happy Holidays everyone! Hope you're all having a great day (although you should be off enjoying yourself instead of reading my stupid stories!) Just to say thank you to everyone who's read and left a lovely review to my stories, you guys are the best! Everyone expectant of a rogue story, I'm afraid you'll have to wait a little longer but I'm already planning it (with the help of one or two of you!) and so I should be getting that out asap, thanks for holding up!

* * *

She saw the glow of the fire. She could smell the burning. She heard the screaming. Clutching her knees, Genovefa whimpered in the cage. Her brother lay unconscious beside her, a result of the large bruised lump on the back of his head.

She imagined her parents, her friends, her neighbours, running and screaming as soldiers burned down their home, cutting at fallen bodies with their swords. There would be no survivors. None but them.

As the sun watched over them, high in the sky, the soldiers returned. Some were wounded. Her people knew how to fight back. Blood soaked their swords. Obviously not well enough.

"Let's get these two loaded onto the cart." A soldier said and two more gripped the bars, grunting as they lifted the cage onto the cart.

As the wheels rumbled on, soldiers fell into line, collecting the tents and cleaning their armour.

"Let's move out!"

The young girl shook her brother and the boy groaned, holding his wound and he groggily sat up.

"Drustan!" She cried and as he realised what was happening, his eyes went wide and he pulled his sister into his arms.

"Hush, Genovefa. We'll be alright." He said, his voice shaky and his lips quivering. He didn't have to see the black smoke in the distance to know nearly everyone he loved was dead.

She sobbed and gripped her brother, crying into his chest as the cart rolled along the road, flanked by soldiers. They left the forest and followed the winding road through the hills. Soon, they'd be far away from here. To them, it'd be like another world. And Rome was certainly that.

Weeks passed and the brother and sister rarely left the cage. They were fed and watered between the bars and the fleeting moments of freedom were when they were dragged out and practically thrown in the bushes with an order to 'relieve themselves'. It soon became clear to them that they were to be taken to Rome to be slaves. Most likely, separated. So, in that cage, the brother and sister clung to one another, their last surviving family member, knowing it wouldn't be long before they could never hold one another again.

The bustle of Rome greeted them like a swarm of locusts. It was loud, unsettling and every face gave a look of curiosity at the poor children. By now, many of the soldiers had left, off to tell their stories on how they conquered the barbarian settlements across Britain. The cart rumbled over the cobblestones, horses snorting as they attempted to manoeuvre their way through the streets as civilians edged their way around them in, trying to shop and avoid being trampled. They soon reached a city square where the driver climbed out and with the help of three soldiers that still followed them, brought the cage down to the floor. As a crowd began to gather, Genovefa and Drustan were brought up to a podium. They shook and whimpered in fear at all the alien faces that stared at them. Drustan grabbed his sister's hand and held it tight.

"We'll be alright. We'll be alright-"

"The bidding for the boy starts at two hundred denarii." A man called out, gripping Drustan by his collar and tearing him away from his sister.

"Two fifty!"

"Three hundred!"

"Three hundred and seventy!"

The voices called out until a large man, covered in scars and muscles, roared out the winning bid at 'five hundred and twenty denarii'. Neither Genovefa or Drustan knew what this man wanted him for, but he was about to find out. In bonds, Drustan was shoved down from the podium to the man where he grabbed his wrists and hauled him away.

"Drustan!" Genovefa screamed. "Drustan!"

The crowd exchanged glances as the boy and the girl called for one another. They weren't exactly moved by the emotional separation of brother and sister. They were just noting the strange names that they had never heard before.

Genovefa was pushed forward and the bidding for her began. The sobbing girl went for 'four hundred and ninety denarii' and sold to a hooded man at the back of the crowd. The white apparel did not make any attempt to mask the sinister man, he could have been dressed like the devil and he would have been just as threatening to Genovefa. She couldn't see his face but she couldn't see much through her tears.

"This way." He said and his voice was smooth. It nearly calmed her as he led her through the streets.

"I want my brother." She cried.

"You won't be able to get him back I'm afraid. Gladiators are very valuable. Unless you have the money to pay for him back, I very much doubt you'd be seeing him again soon."

"But, sir-"

"Listen to me, girl." The man stopped and stared down at her. Now, she could see his face. He had curly brown hair that matched his soft hazel eyes but despite this, his features were sharp.

She swallowed.

"You may never see your brother again. You have to accept that. But you're to work for me now. For the Brotherhood." He said these last words in a hushed voice.

"The Brotherhood?"

He looked around before kneeling to her height.

"What's your name?"

"Genovefa, sir."

"Then, Genovefa, you're about to work for the Assassins."


	4. Undercover

Ginny stepped through the work floor, walking in between the booths. She kept her head down and her tablet under her arm as she entered the lift. With the tap of a button, the lift whistled down to the ground floor and the doors opened, revealing a picturesque view. She avoided eye contact when she passed by the other workers but no one cared. It was pretty standard for quiet, socially awkward Ginny.

"Shaun, for the last time, stop putting salt in my coffee! It wasn't funny the first time, and it wasn't funny the fifty times after that!"

Ginny smiled as she walked over the decorative bridge where Rebecca's voice greeted her.

"Aw, c'mon Becky, it made you giggle the first dozen times."

"No, it didn't! It was disgusting!"

"It's an acquired taste- Ah, well if it isn't Miss Ginny Griffin!" Shaun turned, smiling.

"Hi." She gave a slight wave to the British man behind the coffee counter and the courier girl with short, dark hair.

"Hey, Ginny. Got what we need?" Rebecca asked and held out her own tablet as Ginny held out hers.

"Yep. I'll send it over now." She said and her fingers danced over the screen, sending across the sensitive information on what she had hacked from the Templar computers.

As the notification on its arrival popped up on Rebecca's screen, she gave a grin and nodded.

"Thanks, that's great." Rebecca slipped her tablet into her bag. "I'll see you around. Shaun will notify you if there's anything else."

"Cool. Later." Ginny waved as Rebecca left.

"Becks, I'm sorry!" Shaun called after her and the courier turned her head with a sly grin, just to let him know she was teasing. "Ah, she loves me really." He said to Ginny and she laughed.

"Oh, I bet." Ginny turned on her heel to head back to work. "See ya later, Shaun."

"See y'around."

Ginny made her way back to her animus, still playing with the necklace under her shirt. Her earpiece crackled and Shaun's voice echoed in her head. She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder as he said those famous words.

"Happy hacking!"

Genovefa woke on a small, uncomfortable bed with a tattered sheet over her. It was better than nothing so she didn't complain. She could only dread to think where her brother was waking up.

If he woke up.

Shaking hideous thoughts from her head, she sat up, stretched and began the day. The Assassins employed her as a maid and she cleaned and dusted and did all that she could for these people. They were nice enough; they didn't strike her or scream at her so she was grateful for that, but many ignored her and kind words were rare. For the past few months, life had passed at a considerably dull rate. The man, the Assassin that bought her at the slave market treated her very kindly. He smiled at her as he passed and when his hood was back, she could see his face, sharp features but soft eyes. He wasn't as old as she first imagined, whereas she expected him to be middle aged, he only looked to be in his early twenties. He was handsome and was strongly built and Genovefa admired him for it, promising herself she would one day be as strong and attractive as he was.

She never stopped searching for her brother. Whenever she was told to fetch water or one thing or another, she sharpened her senses and listened. She tried to pick up any information from the civilians, something about a gladiator of some sorts. But nothing. Often, fear took hold as she imagined the worst case scenarios, that Drustan had been killed by an animal or another gladiator, all the horror stories that she'd overheard from people, who watched this for entertainment.

"Girl!"

Genovefa snapped back to reality, her eyes wide behind her scraggly dark hair. She clutched the broom that she always carried and looked up at the white cloaked figure.

"Don't just stand around looking dumb!" She snapped, hands on hips and her face twisted in distaste for the foreigner. "Clean my quarters, you savage!"

Genovefa bowed her head and nodded, hurrying away.

"Ambrose paid too much for that welp." The Assassin sneered as she left and Genovefa noted the name.

Ambrose. That tall Assassin that bought her. The one that smiled. It was a nice name. Almost comforting. Familiar. She could remember someone telling her the meaning to the name. What was it? Ah, yes.

It meant 'immortal'.


	5. A Birthday Wish

Genovefa sighed and opened her eyes. Normally, on this morning, she would wake as soon as the sun had made the slightest notion to rise, then run to her parents, laughing and shouting that she was another year older. Today, she was twelve but she couldn't celebrate her birthday like she always did. She wished she was back home, her brother and her parents giving her a small present; a doll, a good luck charm, a wooden sword. But this year, she got nothing.

She curled up and let herself weep into her knees. Her brother was gone, her parents are dead, everything she knew was taken away, ripped away, and she was left as a peasant girl in a distant land where it was too hot and the people were too cruel. All she wanted was to go home.

Wiping her eyes, she stood, gathered her broom and went to work. The halls were quiet, they usually were this early in the morning, and so she simply opened the door to the Master Assassin's office and began sweeping. Genovefa started to hum an ancient song, something that her mother had sung to her when she was younger. Hot tears fell down her cheeks and her voice shook.

"Genovefa?"

She spun, gasping at the voice that appeared behind her, dropping the broom to the floor with a clatter.

"Are you alright?" Ambrose asked, concern etched on its face.

"Yes, sir, I'm fine, thank you." She said, keeping her eyes down.

"Nonsense." He said, picking up the broom beside her. "I can always tell when you're upset-"

"Sorry?"

"I mean, when someone's upset, I can always tell, ah..." He trailed off and passed the broom back.

"Thank you, sir." She whispered and took the broom from him. "Is there anything else you'd like? Some wine, maybe?"

"Tea, please."

She nodded and put the broom to the side. Genovefa was often given jobs to fetch food and drinks for the Assassins instead of just cleaning for them. So, she hurried off to the kitchen and collected boiling water, a cup and various ingredients to make any kind of tea. When she returned, Ambrose sat at his desk, hood back, his soft eyes scanning various documents around him. His sharp features looked tired.

"How do you like it?" She asked, setting down the tray beside him.

"Simple. Just two mint leaves, please." He said, his voice quiet and tired. It sounded as if he'd only just returned, that he had been out all night on a mission.

Genovefa nodded and placed two mint leaves into the delicate cup before pouring the hot water over it. She placed the steaming cup beside him and he smiled.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, sir." She gave a slight bow before taking away the tray and tucking her broom under her arm.

"Oh, and Genovefa?"

"Yes, sir?" She stopped at the door.

Ambrose gave a gentle smile.

"Happy birthday."


	6. The Opportunity

It was through a crack in the door that she first saw him fight. He was sitting at first, tightening something to his wrists, then he stood, rolled his shoulders and faced his opponent. It was that female Assassin, the one that had snapped at her the other day, that faced him. She stood tall, then made little jumps on the spot to warm up, before bending into a defensive position, fists up and rocking on the balls of her feet.

She moved first. One fist went for his head but her opposite foot was already kicking out at his side before her fist retracted. Ambrose recognised this feint and blocked. She snapped her foot back but he was too quick and snatched it from the air, tugging it with one sharp movement sent her stumbling. She didn't have enough time to recover before Ambrose struck her back with his elbow and kicked her feet from beneath her. She landed on the floor with a cry.

"Julia, you are too predictable." He said, dusting his shoulders before helping up the winded girl. "And too slow. We have talked about this."

"I know, I'm sorry, sir." She wheezed, standing, clutching her belly.

"I bet you are." Ambrose gave a smile and his eyes flickered to the crack in the door. "Genovefa, come in."

The young girl squeaked and tried to retreat into the shadows, but he already knew she was there. How long had he known? She took a breath and opened the door. Ambrose smiled that gentle smile of his that attempted to soften his features, while Julia sneered over her pain.

"Care to try?" He offered.

Genovefa shook her head.

"How much do you know of fighting?" He asked.

"Not much." She said quietly, still holding the broom tight. "My father and my brother played with me, fighting with wooden swords, but it was only playing, it wasn't real."

He nodded and went to a cupboard. When he opened the doors, Genovefa gasped. A vast array of weapons decorated the interior; axes, knives, swords, anything that she could possibly think of was there. Ambrose turned, closing the doors, having retrieved two wooden swords.

"Care to try now?"

Gently, he swapped the broom for the sword and set it to one side as he encouraged her into a fighting stance.

"She should be cleaning, not fighting." Julia snapped.

"She is not just a cleaner, she is a young girl that can take any path she chooses. You of all people should know that, Julia."

"Yes, sir." She growled and remained quiet, folding her arms in protest.

He tapped her blade and she hit it back before sending it for his chest. He let her have that one.

"Good." He smiled. "Quick reflexes."

Genovefa found herself grinning. Not something she'd done in a while.

"Again."

He hit her sword and she hit back but before she lunged, he struck back and almost casually jabbed her stomach. But he didn't quite reach. Genovefa skipped back and flicked her blade around his, as if to confuse him as to where she would aim. With that disengage, she lunged at his unprotected side, a side that he didn't think she'd pick up on.

He barked a laugh of surprise as it made contact.

"Well done! That was clever."

"It's a basic move, everyone knows it, she's not that clever." Julia sniffed.

"Well so far she's doing better than you. Would you like to wait outside?"

"No, sir, I'm sorry, sir."

"Thank you." Ambrose turned back to Genovefa. "You're a talented young lady. Did your father and brother teach you that?"

"Yes, well, sort of." She shrugged. "I could never do it. Not until now."

"So it was sort of... Instinctive?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I think so, sir."

He smiled again.

"Excellent. I'd like you to continue with this training."

"What?!" Julia gasped, her arms falling to her side as her eyes widened and she stepped forward.

"Julia, please." Ambrose raised a hand. "If I require your opinion I will ask for it."

Her cheeks reddened and her mouth pinched into a distasteful expression but she held her tongue. Her fists balled into fists but remained by her side.

"Sir?" Genovefa gripped her wooden sword, still confused at the passing events.

"I believe you have the makings of a fine fighter. Please report here tomorrow at the same time."

"Really, sir?"

Ambrose gave that gentle smile again.

"Yes. I've seen it thousands of times. In no time at all, you will be an excellent Assassin."

"An Assassin?!" Genovefa breathed.

"'Thousands of times?'" Julia piped up.

"Yes, Julia, thousands. You doubt me?"

"No, sir." Although it was clear that she did.

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking," Genovefa said quietly as Ambrose knelt to her height, "how many girls like me have you trained?"

"Many. And all were like you, Genovefa."

"How much alike?"

"In more ways than you can imagine."

He smiled but it wasn't so much a gentle smile. It was... Mournful. There was pain behind it. And so, Genovefa smiled back and nodded out of respect before leaving, thanking him for the opportunity. Soon, she would learn of the truth. But not for many years to come.


	7. Company Protocol

Ginny blinked and sat up. Lydia was beside her, biting her lip. The ceiling lights over head were harsh, the artificial light cruel in comparison to the natural Roman sun.

"Hi." Ginny gave a slight smile, rubbing her eyes.

"Er, hi Ginny, great that you're awake. We need to talk."

"Oh?"

"Before I start, your work for us is great, really great, like the memories you've collected are amazing-"

"But?" There was a catch, there was always a catch.

"But we've been tracing you family tree- we do it with everyone, completely confidential information- we've ah..."

"I'm an orphan." Ginny said as she stood, picking up a bottle of water. "I'm not surprised you haven't found anything."

"No, that's the thing." Lydia pressed as they left the booth and headed to the snack bar. "Even orphans can be traced. We can collate your DNA with the rest of the human race to find birth parents and their family tree but... Ginny, it's like you appeared from nowhere."

"It's not the first time someone's told me that." She sighed and took a swig of water. She was dumped as a baby on the doorstep of a woman who she called her mother. No one knew who left her, whether she had been stolen or her real mother had just given her up, but the woman that raised her did more than a good job of taking care of her. It was there, in her adopted home, that she learnt of the Assassins and became a part of them. Ginny stepped even further into the centuries old mess after her mother died and the sixteen year old girl was raised by a number of Assassins who treated her like a sister, just before she left for a mission of her own. Going undercover in Abstergo.

"Seriously, Ginny." Lydia's face was painted with concern. "We can't trace you back anywhere. You're an anomaly."

"Now that I haven't heard."

"I'm really sorry, but it's company protocol." Lydia bowed her head, staring at her clipboard. "We're going to have to let you go."

"What?" Ginny took a step back.

"I'm so sorry! Really, I am! But we need to know that the memories are from subject seventeen, and we haven't found Desmond's memories to reach that far. We thought it might be your own memories but we can't tell. I'm sorry but we can't let you continue going through your own memories, _Assassin memories_." She hissed.

Ginny resisted the urge to reach for her necklace. She swallowed.

"Fine. I'll get my things."

"I'm so sorry, we've organised your pay to last you the next year while you find work and I can't begin to thank you for the information you've already gathered for us."

"It's fine." Her voice was bitter.

Ginny collected everything that she kept at her booth, which wasn't much, handed in her company tablet and was accompanied down the elevator.

"I can take it from here. I know my way out." She told the guard and he nodded and returned the way he came.

As he disappeared, Ginny headed straight for the coffee bar.

"Shaun."

The figure turned, glasses crooked as he set down a steaming cup of coffee. Adjusting his apron, he smiled and pushed the coffee towards her.

"Ah, Ginny, lovely to see you, Rebecca isn't here, although-"

"I was fired." She sighed, getting two extra packs of sugar and pouring it in her coffee and stirring it.

_"What?"_

"Yeah, that's what I said."

"What did you do?" He lowered his panicked voice to a whisper. "_Do they know?"_

Ginny shook her head and put the plastic lid on the coffee cup.

"No. They said it was company protocol, they couldn't trace back my family tree, said I basically appeared from nothing and fired me."

Shaun sucked air through his teeth.

"I'm sorry, Ginny, that's rough. I'll contact Rebecca, see if there's anything we can do."

"Cheers, Shaun. How much do I owe ya?"

"It's on the house. I think you deserve it."

"Thanks, I'll see you later." She nodded and picked up the coffee with her spare hand as she tucked her belongings under her arm. "I'll catch you later."

"Where are you going?" He called after her as she headed for the outside door.

"With luck, forward." She smiled.


	8. A Familiar Face

She had to admit, a lie in was nice.

Now that she had been let go from Abstergo, there was plenty of time for Ginny to wake up, go for a quick run, shower and instead of going to work, head down to the storage units where the Assassins had their warehouse base. These were one of many dotted around the city but this one had the most technology, thanks to Rebecca. They still had the portable animus that subject 17- Desmond- used.

Abstergo had really made their impression. She frowned and made a mental note to refer to the deceased Assassin by his actual name, rather than the reference Abstergo used.

Despite everything, it had been a good morning. No early alarm, no niggling worries about being discovered by Abstergo. As long as the payments still made their way into her bank account, Ginny would go so far as to say it would be a great day.

However, that was about to change.

As she pushed open the warehouse door, Ginny nearly fell back, the noises slamming into her.

"Dammit, Shaun! I've told you, we can't just waltz in there and demand her job back!"

"But we need to find the cure! Damien's depending on it!"

"We have an animus here!"

"It's unstable, you know what happened to Desmond!"

"We're going to have to take that risk!"

"Rebecca, we're not looking for the Apple anymore! We need to search deeper and that'll send signals to the Templars that there's an animus about. They'll find us!"

"I'm going to have to agree with Rebecca on this one." Ginny said as she approached them. They hadn't heard her enter so they blinked, swallowed and set their faces into a more neutral expression.

Around them, there was technical equipment linked up with each other, wires, connectors and adapters littered everywhere.

"Are you sure? You know the risk involved?" Shaun stepped towards her.

"I know. But... What cure am I looking for? I thought I was just going through my memories for research."

Shaun and Rebecca exchanged expressions.

"We shouldn't be the ones to tell you that." Rebecca bit her lip.

"Well, I need to know what I'm looking for." Ginny sighed. "I'm guessing it's this Damien guy that will tell me."

Shaun nodded.

"He should be here shortly. We told him what had happened and he wanted to talk to you personally, not just through an ear piece to us."

Right on cue, there was a beep to the left of her and the three of them turned to the hidden door that opened, rumbling up. The man stepped into the light and Ginny's eyes widened as she stepped back.

It was him.

"Hi." Damien smiled and gave a wave. As his eyes met Ginny's, time froze.

The man with the sharp features and the soft eyes had found her again.

She woke up on the floor, hair over her face and a bruise in the back of her head. She didn't remember fainting. Was it hot in here or-

"Uh, Ginny?"

Ambrose, or rather, Damien stood over her, a hand out to help her up.

She began to scream, completely unnerved by the resurrection of the Roman, scrambling away from him.

"Ah, yeah, I think we need to talk." It was said in a tone like he had said this plenty of times before.

"Ya think?!" Ginny cried, standing. She glanced to Shaun and Rebecca who seemed to be mere spectators of the situation. "Why- why does he look exactly like Ambrose?! Why isn't he dead?!"

"Ginny, listen, calm down." He reached for her arm but she shook it off.

"What?!" She shouted, stepping back with each step he took forward. "What possible answer could you gave for being... Immortal?!"

"That's why I need you. That's what I want to find out."

"I don't know! I don't even have a clue what's going on now!" She continued to take stumbling steps backwards.

"Ginny, calm down, just-" he stopped. As he halted, so did she.

"What?" She snapped. "You want me to go in the animus and relive my ancestor's life just to help you find a... A cure? A cure to being immortal? Why couldn't you just ask her, Genovefa?"

"Something happened."

"Oh, spare me the intrigue." She nearly spat.

"Ginny," Rebecca stepped in, "remember the film last year that they made from Desmond's memories, the one about Edward Kenway?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"One of the characters in it, Roberts, was a Sage. He lived multiple lives but could remember each one. There was an incident when the most recent form attacked the guy that was getting us those memories."

"So you're saying he's a type of Sage?" Ginny nodded her head in Damien's direction and he grunted.

"Yeah, pretty much." She bit her lip. "But, here's the thing. They're not the only ones."

"So there's more? Bloody brilliant." Ginny threw her hands in the air and turned, heading for the door. She couldn't deal with this any more, she had to just go. She needed a good lie down, take in what had happens, calm down and-

"The other one is you, Ginny." She blurted. "You're a Sage."


	9. Step By Step

"I'm a _what_?" Ginny spun. Her eyes were wide as the three glanced between themselves, trying to explain the situation to the hysterical woman.

"You're a third type of Sage." Shaun explained. "Roberts wasn't immortal but could remember all his past lives. He was a conscious reincarnation. Damien is, well, immortal so there's not much more you can say on that. You're an unconscious reincarnation which means-"

"Which means you've lived other lives but can't remember them." Rebecca interrupted, her friendlier tone attempting to account for Shaun's rather monotone, intellectual voice. "Genovefa isn't your ancestor. She's you, a past you."

"I don't believe this." Ginny turned, throwing her hands in the air. "I'm going home."

"Ginny!" Rebecca called after her but she was already out of the door.

"Just let her go, there's nothing you can do-" she heard Damien tell Rebecca and the fury rose within her as she passed the threshold.

"Who the hell do you think I am?!" She spun, practically screaming into the warehouse. "I don't care what I am, how many bloody lives I've lived, you don't know me!"

Damien said nothing. His face was stone. He had heard this so many times before.

Something about him, those soft eyes, seemed to calm that rage that threatened to boil over. Her chest heaved more than it did after her morning runs. Learning she was practically immortal was much more draining than forty minutes of exercise.

"How do you keep finding me?" She managed, her voice nearly a whisper.

"I don't know. Our paths just seem to keep crossing." He shrugged, a slight smile on his face.

Ginny tried to turn around again, to walk away, but something made her stop. Something made her calm down and face the people from whom she was trying to escape.

"What's it like, living forever?" Ginny took a step forward but remained outside. She wasn't quite ready to step back into there, somewhere that she didn't understand anymore.

"Incredible." Damien replied. "I've seen civilisations rise and fall, cities built and crumble. But heartbreaking too. I've seen everyone die. I've seen you. I've seen you so many times."

"You've seen me die." She swallowed and took another step.

"I have."

"How?"

"You've died in more ways than I want to remember, brutally and peacefully. You were always an Assassin. You fought for their cause to the end."

"Did I fight for anything... Anyone else?"

"You fought for me."

"How can you do this?" Ginny wasn't angry anymore. She was close to tears. "How can you live so long and stay sane? How can you see me die and still find me again? How can you carry that burden?"

"It's a heavy burden." Damien nodded. "I've had many conversations like this, trying to explain who I am and who you are. You..." the man took a shaky breath and tried a fragile smile, "you always forget me."

"What can I do?" Ginny breathed, her throat tight. "What can I do to help?"

"We need to find the cure to Damien's immortality. We believe Genovefa has it." Rebecca said.

Realising she was closer than she was moments ago, Ginny looked down. She was standing back inside the warehouse. Step by step, she had rejoined them. Slowly, and with difficulty, she was understanding. Step by step, she would find out who Damien was and what he meant to her. Step by step, she would find out who she is and what she was.

The music was loud in her earphones and the beat thumped through her skull. Her eyes were closed as she listened so to anyone trying to contact her, she was practically dead to the world.

"GINNY!"

The barking voice was just heard over the song before the earphones were sharply tugged out of her ears by Shaun.

"Hey!" She snatched them back.

"Finally!" He sighed. "You know, we can hear your music. You can get tinnitus from that."

"Ah, don't care, I still have plenty of lives to go, don't I?" She grinned, starting to enjoy the concept.

"Hm, we'll see." He frowned. "I hope for your sake there isn't another one of me getting frustrated with you because once again, you haven't been listening to anything that's been going on."

"What's happened now?" She asked, pausing her music player and wrapping the earphones around it. It was an old device, but trustworthy.

"Rebecca's been tinkering around with the animus and it's not as developed as the ones back in Abstergo. There'll be a bit of a jump between Genovefa's childhood memories and to where we end up."

"Aren't you worried you'll miss the cure that Damien's looking for?" Ginny stood and approached the animus. "And besides, what am I even supposed to be looking for? Or is it one of those 'you'll know it when you see it things'?"

"We're pretty sure it's found round about her twenties." Shaun said with a confirming nod from Damien. "And you're precisely right, it is one of those 'you'll know it when you see it things'."

"Why am I not surprised?" She rolled her eyes as she placed her music player on the side.

"You ready?" Rebecca asked and Ginny nodded, lying down in the animus as the machine began to whir.

Before the memory sequence began, she turned to see Damien pick up the device.

"It's one of the old iPods." He grinned. "I remember these."

"Of course you do." She rolled her eyes but still found a smile on her face.

He clicked the front button and the last song played by Fall Out Boy displayed on the screen, something from their American Beauty/American Pyscho album.

"'Immortals'," he grinned as reality faded away. "Good choice."


End file.
